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Anthony Chalfont had his own suite of rooms on the first floor. Severely crippled by arthritis, he rarely ventured forth from them, but was looked after devotedly by his manservant Gresham, and Joa
Just recently, her father’s mind had begun to wander, and he seemed to prefer to dwell very much in the past. A couple of times since her return, Joa
She took a deep breath. ‘Tell me again—slowly—what happened. How you came to do this thing. After all, when I went away the workshop seemed to be doing well. The order-book was full.’
‘It was.’ Simon’s shoulders were hunched, his whole attitude despondent. ‘Then everything started to go wrong. Two of our biggest customers gave us backword. They said the recession was biting, and the property market was going into decline. They reckoned people weren’t prepared to spend that kind of money on handcrafted furniture and kitchens any more. We were left with thousands of pounds’ worth of specially designed gear on our hands.’
‘And what about our partner, Philip the super-salesman?’ Joa
Simon shrugged. ‘Philip tried to find other markets, but the answer was always the same. Property development was being cut back, and prices kept down. They wanted mass-market stuff people could afford in their show houses.’
Joa
But Simon hadn’t wanted to listen. He’d wanted to make money fast, and restore the shaky Chalfont fortunes. He’d also wanted to marry Philip’s pretty sister Fiona, so anything Philip suggested was all right with him.
And at first their growth had been meteoric, just as Philip had predicted. Simon and Fiona had been married with all the appropriate razzmatazz, and the couple had moved into Chalfont House. The Craft Company had continued to flourish, and, although Joa
I should have stayed here after Martin died, she thought with a small silent sigh. I shouldn’t have run away like that. But I felt I needed time—to lick my wounds—to try and heal myself. There were too many memories here. Too much I needed to forget.
Her headlong flight, after her husband’s funeral, had taken her to her godmother’s home in the United States. Aunt Vi
If her godmother hadn’t reluctantly decided to sell up and retire to California, she had to admit she might still have been there.
Clearly, eighteen months had been a long time to absent herself. Too long, she castigated herself.
‘We had suppliers to pay, and the wages bill to meet,’ Simon went on. ‘Things were looking really black. The bank refused outright to allow us to exceed our stated overdraft. In fact, they started pressing us to repay some of it. Jo—I didn’t know where to turn.’
She didn’t look at him. She continued to stare rigidly down into the garden. ‘So you turned to Cal Blackstone. Why?’
‘It wasn’t quite like that.’ The defensiveness was back in his voice. ‘He approached me. He was the guest speaker at the Round Table di
‘But later?’ Joa
‘Later—he began to talk about the Craft Company. He seemed to know we were in trouble. He said that things were generally difficult for small businesses, and mentioned a few of the problems some of them were having at Chalfont Mill. He said he’d been able to help in a lot of cases. That it would be a pity to go under, if a simple injection of cash could save the day.’
‘Cal Blackstone, philanthropist.’ Joa
Simon came to stand beside her. ‘What else was I supposed to do?’ he almost hissed. ‘Things were bad and getting worse every day. Our creditors were pressing, and the bank was threatening to bounce the wages cheque. If someone offers you a lifeline, you don’t throw it back in his face, for God’s sake.’ He paused. ‘Besides, Fiona had just told me she was pregnant.’
With her usual immaculate sense of timing, Joa
‘Twenty thousand to begin with. The rest, later.’
‘Using your power of attorney from Dad to put this house up as collateral, I suppose.’
‘We had to do something,’ Simon said stiffly. ‘And Phil’s flat is only rented.’
‘Lucky Philip! I hope he’s got a spare room. You and Fiona are probably going to need it. And the baby when it arrives, of course,’ she added, her mouth twisting. ‘Have you warned your wife she may shortly be homeless? Not to mention Dad, of course.’
Simon looked at her uneasily. ‘Why should it come to that?’
‘Because—to quote the words from his letter of today’s date—Mr Blackstone wishes to meet you to discuss the extent of your liabilities to him.’ She was silent for a moment, then said abruptly, ‘He’s closing in for the kill, Si. He means to finish what his father and grandfather began. The old man swore he’d see our family on its knees when Grandpa fired him, and turned him out of his cottage all those years ago. Cal Blackstone means to fulfil that pledge.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s as well I came back when I did. I would have hated to return and find all my clothes and other possessions dumped outside on the lawn by the present Mrs Blackstone.’ She paused again. ‘I presume there is one by now?’
‘No one official,’ Simon said moodily. ‘He’s apparently still quite happy to play the field, lucky bastard.’
Joa
She had just made arrangements to view a cottage which had come on to the market in the neighbouring valley when Simon had dropped his bombshell about Cal Blackstone’s loan.
Blind instinct told her to proceed with her own plans. To walk away from Simon and the mess he’d created, and let him sort it out for himself, while she began to rebuild her life at a safe distance from Chalfont House, the mill, and everything and everyone concerned with it.
But it wasn’t as simple as that. Simon had been hard hit by Cecilia’s death, and although Joa